


The Groupie

by vcg73



Category: Glee
Genre: Kadam AU, M/M, One Three Hill, kadam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 16:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13931382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vcg73/pseuds/vcg73
Summary: Written for a 2015 prompt: Adam and Kurt have never met, but Adam is a huge fan of One Three Hill and can’t pass up the chance to meet their lead singer.





	The Groupie

#  
#

“Stalker Boy is out there again,” Dani said, her eyes smiling at Kurt’s in the big dressing room mirror as she carefully applied a blood-red gloss to her lips that complemented this week’s hair dye. “Stage left, near the back.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, holding a program up between them as a shield so as not to get hair-spray in Dani’s eyes while he carefully sculpted the front of his hair into a spikey style. “I wish you wouldn’t call him that. It was mean when Santana started it and it’s not any better coming from you. I think it’s nice that we have our very own groupie.”

“Well, you do anyway,” Elliot chimed in, lifting up on his toes so that he could see his eyes clearly in the mirror as he applied a ring of black liner to his lids. He fluttered his lashes at the reflection and grinned, liking the result, then borrowed the hairspray from Kurt to add few touch-ups to his own thick mane. He straightened the scarlet tank top he wore beneath his black leather jacket and then handed Kurt the liner. “Here, wear a little of this tonight. It’ll look great with that vest and give your special fan a little something to fantasize about after tonight’s show.”

“I don’t know. I’m not very good with this stuff,” Kurt protested, looking at the little black pencil doubtfully. “I can put it on other people but we had to wear some for a competition once and I ended up looking like a raccoon.”

Dani plucked the item out of his hand. “Here, let me.”

She pushed Kurt down onto a wooden chair and proceeded to straddle his lap, planting a laughing peck on lips when he squawked in protest. Elliot helpfully dabbed away the transfer of rosy gloss with his thumb while Dani skillfully made up Kurt’s eyes. Kurt just sighed dramatically and let them work, the dimple in his cheek giving away his struggle not to smile at their antics.

“Why do you think that he’s here for me?” Kurt asked after a moment. “That guy has been coming ever since Jerry gave us the regular Thursday night slot at Callbacks for bringing in dozens of new people on their deadest night of the week. What makes this particular person so special?”

Dani and Elliot exchanged an overdone look of pity that made Kurt swat them both lightly.

Elliot laughed. “Oh, come on Kurt. You can’t tell me that you haven’t seen the way that blondie sits there staring with that big goofy grin on his face every time you sing. I swear to God I saw little heart shaped bubbles floating around his head last week when you sang that John Legend cover.”

Kurt cast a questioning look at Dani. She had finished his eye makeup but remained sitting comfortably on his knees. “It’s true,” she said. “And he didn’t start coming here when the crowds did. I noticed him on our second gig. It was a little hard not to when there were only six people in the audience. Then he came back again and brought that big group of mismatched awesome with him.”

Kurt smiled, remembering. Two of them, a girl with a mohawk that he had seen around NYADA, and a little guy about Rachel’s size wearing huge black framed glasses, had actually stood on their table to give the band an enthusiastic ovation when they finished. “I guess you’re right and the crowds did start getting bigger right after that. I just assumed that the posters I put on the activities board at school were doing their job.”

“Well, they probably helped,” Elliot admitted. “I’ve seen people I know from NYU out there too.”

Dani waved the comment away. “Yeah, fine, word of mouth, whatever. The point is that your delicious fanboy has been here every week without fail, sometimes with his crowd and sometimes alone. The only time he left early was the week your friend Sam subbed for you because you had the flu.”

“Wow,” Kurt said, smiling to himself. “That’s … really flattering if you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. You’re a hottie, Hummel. And a hell of a singer. Better get used to having the boys fall at your feet,” Dani told him. She kissed him again, hard on the cheek this time as she rose from his lap.

Kurt glanced at himself in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the stark red lip print emblazoned on his right cheekbone. He reached for a tissue and then stopped, realizing that the addition looked great with the crimson tips he had added with a bottle of temporary dye to the spiked ends of his hair. Elliot had wanted to do a rock medley tonight so everyone was decked out in tight black leather with red accents. 

Elliot nodded approval as he watched the aborted clean-up gesture. Swinging one long, leather-cuff decorated arm around Kurt’s neck, he gathered Dani in on the other side, nodding at the picture they made in the mirror. “We look totally fuckable,” he declared smugly.

“You know, we actually do,” Kurt agreed, unable to keep from grinning as he adjusted his own wristbands and deliberately flexed the well defined muscles in his bare arms.

Dani likewise adjusted her bosom, centering the ruby-decorated cross pendant she wore perfectly in the dip of her cleavage. She made a kissy face at her reflection and then grinned hugely. “Come on, studs. Let’s not keep the girls and boys from all this hotness.”

Laughing, the three members of One Three Hill gathered their things and went out to take the stage.

#

The club was bursting with customers. One of the most popular aspects of their band from what the club manager had told them was their variety. The customers liked that could go to see the group every week and never know what they were going to get. One Three Hill had done Contemporary Broadway, 80’s pop, R&B ballads, and last week a 1960’s girl group tribute with the band made up in neat white tuxedo jackets. Kurt’s friend Mercedes had been in town and she had come up and joined them as a guest singer for a couple of songs,and the audience had loved it. 

Tonight they were going with an edgy rock theme. Kurt had had his doubts when Elliott proposed it, but he could see now that he had been wrong. As leader and founder of the band he usually handled the arrangements, but he liked to try and respect the suggestions of his band mates too, and to make sure they knew their opinions and talents mattered to him. Kurt knew all too well what it felt like to be relegated to eternal back-up singer and Elliot and Dani both had incredible talent that deserved to be showcased.

Kurt had intended to let the other two swap leads tonight while he stayed in the background, not feeling that rock music played to his strengths, but Dani and Elliot were not about to let their friend just stand back and provide harmonies for them all night. After the first couple of songs, they pulled him forward and began playing the intro to “I Believe in a Thing Called Love”, a song Kurt and Elliott had originally done just for fun.

At first, as he took his place at the microphone, Kurt felt sure this was mistake. What if the crowd wasn’t into it? What if they laughed him off the stage? That had been his worst nightmare ever since it had actually happened to him back in high school. But as the scream of electric guitars and energetic beat of the drums thrummed through his body, he smiled, feeling his nervousness fade away. He looked good. He felt good. And he could do this.

Grabbing the microphone stand firmly, Kurt began to sing, catching the eyes of people in the audience and teasing with flicks of his head, come-hither glances, and confident, sinuous body language. He wanted them to feel like every move he made was a subtle invitation. And it seemed to be working! As he looked out over the audience, he was amazed to notice how many were leaning forward to catch every syllable.

Then, Kurt suddenly saw _him_. Their groupie was here!

The blond man had moved from the table where he usually sat and taken a seat on one of the tall bar stools where he could get a perfect view of the stage. He was dancing in place, singing along with the lyrics, just rocking out to their sound with a delightful lack of self-consciousness. And his eyes were fixed on Kurt, even though Elliot had just taken over the lead for this verse. 

Curious to see what would happen, Kurt looked their fan straight in the eye and winked. Abruptly, the man stopped singing along, eyes startled wide. Kurt grinned at him and smoothly took over the lead when his turn came up again. He kept his gaze fixed on the handsome stranger, singing right to him and enjoying his increasingly flustered reactions. He could not tell at this distance, with the spotlight shining in his eyes, but Kurt would have bet money that his target was blushing.

Elliot and Dani had been right!

Kurt’s band mates noticed what was happening and exchanged a grin. Dani signaled Kurt to keep singing when the final verse came, instead of taking a turn as she would normally have done, just moving closer to Elliott and rocking out with him on their respective guitars instead.

Fully into the fun of this by now, Kurt bent his mic stand forward and rolled his hips, allowing his voice to transform into a passionate growl as he sang the words to his mesmerized admirer. This wasn't like him at all, but he could not seem to make himself quit. 

The song finished with a wailing run, during which Kurt dropped to his knees and threw his head back in a parody of sexual completion.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when the audience leaped to their feet, whooping and clapping their enthusiasm. Kurt’s band mates helped him to his feet and he grinned, a little embarrassed now that the performance was over. He was the one blushing hotly, as he bowed and gave the cheering patrons a wave. Elliot thumped him on the back and Dani joined the others in clapping for him, a huge grin covering her pretty face. She had been trying to get Kurt out of his shell since the band started, and he had finally taken that step and stopped worrying about how people would perceive him. 

After the applause finally settled, they performed two more songs during which Kurt slipped gratefully back into the shadows to catch his breath and let his friends tear the house down in their own inimitable way. He saw his fan order a beer from the bartender and chug it down like he was dying of thirst. Kurt could not help feeling proud. It felt strangely powerful to have had that kind of effect on someone he didn't even know.

When the man looked at his face again, Kurt suddenly felt daring. He met that admiring gaze and smiled. Not the showy come-hither smile from before, but a real one. An inviting one. He raised his eyebrows and gave a little beckoning toss of his head to the right, where the backstage door was located.

The man looked startled, pointing to his own chest and then to Kurt, raising his own brows in question. Kurt gave a subtle nod, not wanting the rest of the audience to realize that he was communicating with one of their number from the stage.

His fan smiled and nodded back. He waited until the current song ended and Dani stepped forward to thank everyone for joining them and invite them to come back next week, then made his way around the crowd and to the little curtain that covered the stage door.

Kurt waved and threw kisses to the audience, then hurried off the stage, clambering down the side steps and past the security guard the club kept posted at the door on show nights to keep unauthorized personnel from sneaking back stage.

“I have someone coming back stage,” he explained hastily when the security guard, who looked like the love child of Shannon Beiste and Roz Washington, gave him a questioning look. “I invited him to come talk to me after the show.”

She grinned and gave him a thumbs up. “It's that cutie who comes to see you every week, isn't it?" Smile widening at his astonished face, she nodded. "I seen the way that boy looks at you. Figured it was only a matter of time. Glad you’re finally getting up on that.” 

Kurt smiled back weakly. Crap, had _everyone_ seen this stranger’s crush except for him? 

He opened the door and found himself facing the man from the audience. He was taller than Kurt had expected, a bit taller than himself, and nicely muscular in a tight blue t-shirt and dark gray jeans. His eyes were deep set and also blue. They all but drank in Kurt’s sweat-dappled, leather-clad self.

“Hello,” they said simultaneously.

Kurt laughed, flinching internally at how nervous it sounded. “Thank you for coming back. I’m Kurt Hummel, founder of One Three Hill.”

The man took the hand he held out, gripping it with both of his own as he replied, “Yes, I know! I’ve been to hear your band a number of times. My name is Adam Crawford and I’m a great admirer.”

He spoke with a soft British accent, something that had always been a weakness of Kurt’s. It was unexpected, and between that accent and his adorably sunny smile, he was causing an even more unexpected reaction to Kurt’s adrenaline-fueled body. Damn these skin tight leather pants!

Keeping their eyes locked and praying that Adam would not look down and notice that Kurt’s hand wasn’t the only thing being extended in friendship, he said, “The others told me that we had a fan but I didn’t believe them."

To his heart-fluttering pleasure, Adam blushed. “Well, to be honest, it’s really you that I’m a particular fan of. I was here the first time when your band was still called Pamela Lansbury. You did Madonna night. I love her music and when you came forward and sang lead on "Borderline” I was overcome. You were just so talented and so breathtaking up on that stage, I had to come again. And again. I told all of my friends that they had to hear you too.“ He laughed, sounding a little sheepish. "You must get this all the time. Sorry to sound like such a git.”

“I’m not sure what that is, but I’m sure you aren’t one,” Kurt told him. “I definitely do not get this all this time! In fact, you’re pretty much the first one ever, so honestly thank you so much. I’m honored that you liked us, me, that much.”

“Absolutely,” Adam told him, regaining his enthusiasm as he outlined some of his favorite performances, all of which had featured Kurt on lead vocal. “You’re absolutely amazing. If I were still attending NYADA I’d have probably turned into a stalker and driven you mad with my constant enthusiasm.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “You went to NYADA?”

Adam nodded. “I did, but I graduated just a few months after you started and unfortunately I hadn’t the chance to meet you. Have you ever heard of the Adam’s Apples?”

“The show-choir,” Kurt said, recognizing the name at once. “Of course. I almost signed up when I first started but ultimately I decided to try "Plato’s Playwrights” instead. I like the group, it’s fun, but I found myself missing the thrill of singing for an audience. I figured the choir was probably full so I decided to start up a band instead. I asked some friends from the diner where I work to join me and we found Elliot through an open-audition call. He’s amazing and he’s also one of the only people who showed up. And we spent a few weeks as a quintet, but then my roommates bowed out and so the rest of us became a trio and . . . and you probably don’t care about any of that, do you?“

To his relief, Adam was still smiling in spite of his awkward babbling. "On the contrary, I love getting the inside scoop on how your brilliant group was formed. One day when you’re all famous, I’ll be able to boast of this moment to anyone who will listen. How did you come to be playing at Callbacks?”

The conversation continued, flowing easily and with growing comfort. Kurt was startled when Dani’s voice called his name, realizing he must have been chatting for at least fifteen minutes when she said, “Kurt? Elliot and I are heading to The Paper Crane for dinner. Do you want to come with?” 

Looking into Adam’s eyes and seeing the resignation there, the other man clearly believing that their shared moment was about to end, Kurt called back, “No thanks. You guys go ahead.” He hesitated a moment, then continued, “I have a date tonight.”

For a split second, Adam looked disappointed, then he caught on to Kurt’s hopeful expression and the blazing smile came back. He nodded so hard that his blond hair fell right out of its carefully sculpted swoop and into his eyes. He brushed it back with a sheepish smile and Kurt felt his heart melt a little. Maybe he wasn't the only one who still felt a little shy.

“Okay,” Dani called. “See you at work tomorrow. Have fun!”

“I will,” Kurt called back. Licking his lips and wondering where this sudden burst of boldness was coming from, he asked quietly, “Would you like to go out and do something? Or, or maybe just have some fun right here.”

Adam swallowed and his pupils dilated with unmistakable interest. “I’m, uh, not much of a hit and run artist,” he said carefully, clarifying Kurt’s intention. “Usually more of a dinner and a movie type, but I could be convinced to make an exception. If you want to.”

“Me too,” Kurt said, relief coursing through him at the response. “And I know it’s a cliche to say that I don’t normally do things like this, but it’s true. I don't think I've ever actually propositioned a man in my whole life, but I guess, I sort of . . . am. I’d love to go out with you some time, just maybe not right now. Is it really terrible that I'm kind of getting into the whole rockstar/groupie fantasy thing?”

He reached out, stroking his fingers lightly over the protruding pectorals and strong abs lightly delineated by the thin material of Adam’s shirt. He could not believe he was doing something so far removed from the romantic teenager whose highest ambition had once been holding hands and making out with a crush. 

Fortunately, Adam did not look at all like he was turned off by the idea. His eyes darkened and he also reached out, brushing his fingertips from the hollow of Kurt's throat and along the exposed line of his breastbone. His fingers made a little twisting motion as they descended, causing the metal clasps holding Kurt’s leather vest together to pop open one by one, until his upper body was exposed all the way to the low riding edge of his studded belt. Adam licked his lips as he noticed the interest outlined so clearly. "Not terrible in the slightest," he said, his voice almost a growl as he met Kurt's eyes and let his hand slide a little lower.

Kurt would have been embarrassed by the needy sound that escaped his lips at that incredibly welcome contact, but there was no time. Suddenly their hands were roaming freely, discovering the contours of each other's bodies as they pressed together, kissing with frantic passion. Kurt’s vest hit the floor and Adam’s shirt was soon rucked up nearly to his collar bone, his blond hair looking like it had been electrified from the tugging and tousling of Kurt's hands. Their hips ground together with delicious friction, but just as they began to rocket toward the point of no return, a loud throat-clearing broke the moment. 

The two young men froze in place, bodies still locked together as they slowly turned their heads in the direction of the interruption.

The security guard was standing slouched against the stage wall, watching them with both arms folded across her chest and an amused eyebrow raised high. “Honey, when I told you to get up on that, I didn’t exactly mean right here. I thought I was going to need to get the fire extinguisher for a minute! Now, we got another group coming in to do a set in about fifteen minutes. You better go get washed up and get your stuff out of the dressing room.”

Kurt felt as though he just might need that extinguisher, his face was so blazing hot. He pushed carefully away from Adam, grateful to realize that being caught had given both of them the equivalent of an abrupt cold shower. “Right, um, sorry Jackie.”

“I’m sorry, ma'am,” Adam said, dipping down to grab Kurt’s lost shirt and handing it to him with a sheepish smile. "I’ll just um …”

The security guard chuckled. “I was young once. I get it.” She checked her watch with an exaggerated motion. “Well, it’s about time I walked around the building and did my rounds. I’ll be coming back to check that dressing room in ten minutes.”

She went on her way with exaggerated casualness, whistling a jaunty tune.

“Oh, crap,” Kurt groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “I don't think I'm cut out for this rock star stuff after all.”

Adam straightened his shirt, tucking it back into his jeans. “I thought you were doing quite well, actually. Not your fault we were interrupted.” He paused thoughtfully. “You know, if … well, if what just happened hasn’t utterly ruined the mood, we could grab a bite to go at that little pizza place down the street and then head over to my flat. I live just a kilometer or so from the club. Alone.”

“A one night stand?” Kurt asked, feeling uncertain again. He still found that he could barely resist the impulse to tear the other man’s clothes from his body, security guards be damned, but somehow deliberately going out to a strange man's apartment to have sex felt sordid in a way that their spontaneous make-out session had not. 

“Doesn’t have to be,” Adam said, the understanding in his eyes catching Kurt a little off guard. “We could have a bite, exchange numbers, and maybe just get to know one another a bit and see where things take us from there. Unless the other is what you’d prefer.”

Kurt found himself smiling. “I wouldn’t. I mean, I do. I want to go to your place. Because I did tell Dani I was going on a date, and I think I’d love to do that. Them. Both of those things. You know, the getting to know each other, and the sex and not ignoring each other afterward. And going on dates and getting to know each other, and more of the sex … things. Oh, god.”

He clapped a hand over his mouth to shut off the awkward flow of words. God. So much for his momentary fantasy of Kurt Hummel, confident, smooth, tail-snatching rock god.

Adam laughed, eyes dancing with sudden affection. “I’d like all of those . . . things as well. So why don’t we slow down for a moment. You go clean up and gather your things while I go back to the bar and wait. I’ll call ahead for our pizza and as soon as you’re ready, we can go.”

“That sounds perfect,” Kurt said with a relieved sigh, thankful that he had not apparently sounded as idiotic to Adam's ears as he had his own. “Thin crust pepperoni and olives for me, please. Light cheese.”

“Got it,” Adam said. He winked. “I normally take onion on my pizza but I think I’ll order without tonight.”

“Smart man. I’ll see you out there in ten.”

“I’ll be there.” He looked Kurt up and down one more time, taking in his tall black lace-up boots, painted on black leather pants, bare toned upper body, wrist cuffs, eyeliner and tall highlighted hair. He took a deep breath and let it out in a happy gust. “God, you’re gorgeous. I feel as though I’m about to wake up from an unusually detailed dream in which my favorite celebrity wanted to hook up with me.”

Kurt had to smile. “Well, I’m not exactly a celebrity, but thank you. And I hope this isn’t a dream either, because I’m nowhere near ready to wake up yet.”

Adam stepped forward and kissed him again. “Just in case,” he whispered, then hurried away before impulse could overwhelm them both again.

As Kurt walked back to the dressing room, clutching the leather vest in his hands, he began to grin like a kid at Christmas. He was totally going to let Elliot pick the band’s themes more often!

THE END


End file.
